


Koshcheyova

by a_blair



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Reincarnation, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_blair/pseuds/a_blair
Summary: Anastasia is told her mother sold her for the good of the country. She never believes the matrons but she does obey them because while this may be her second life she doesn't intend to waste it.(OC insert, Red Room trainee, Enhanced!OC, possible future romance)
Kudos: 10





	Koshcheyova

**Author's Note:**

> I had this kicking around in my google docs so I figured I'd post it and hopefully that will motivate me to write more often.

Water. Burning lungs. Darkness. These are her first dreams. And her first memories. 

She doesn't remember much of her early years, but she remembers a time before them. A life that contrasts the cold and wooden manor she's now confined to, with soft beds and warm smiles and people who called her name fondly. She isn't called by that name anymore, and the father and brother that called her by it exist only in her head. Now she is Anastasia, a tool being sharpened wearing ballet slippers and holding a gun in too small hands.  
She's told she was sold to the KGB by her mother when she was younger, but she never trusts the words of the matrons. Perhaps somewhere out there is the family she remembers, or another just as kind, searching for her and in tears. She may never know though because she can't escape the Red Room. They put weapons in their hands but only in the presence of those with bigger ones. At night their hands are cuffed to their beds so they can't run. Anastasia dances and shoots and obeys because of the hope of something more that her memories give her. Even if they are just dreams they are her only comfort. The songs she can almost hear soothe her, the sunny days she's sure she's felt give her peace, and the quiet days she aches for are her dream. Though it hurts to remember the people, she cherishes that pain. 

Anastasia is taught in the same class as Natasha Romanoff, now Natalia Romanova, a woman from somewhere that should not be real. It takes time to recognize her. For a while she's a face that causes an itch in the back of her mind. She watches her, waiting to remember, and one day when she sees her give another girl some of her bread she realizes who she is. A character from a movie franchise and comic books, a hero with a dark past. Beautiful, deadly, and at the root of it all, kind. Natasha is the catalyst to her recognition of this world. Nothing and everything changes in the span of seconds.  
Knowing this doesn't change her situation but she keeps it in mind. She can't help it. 

Anastasia is inferior to the future Black Widow in every way. Physical ability, mental capability, appearance, technique, dance, death. Natasha can and will do anything and with grace. The matron always praises her. Anastasia tries her best if only to survive, but she only scrapes by. Still Anastasia likes her, for the girl who gave another bread and for the woman she will become. She talks quietly to other girls and Natasha at night, teaches them little songs and asks them questions. Some girls don't respond or tell on her and get her punished. But Natasha always listens without answering back. Anastasia keeps talking and humming. Songs she remembers from before are one of the few things that bring her comfort and she loves to share it, however quiet she has to be. This body's voice is lovely as well, higher and softer than the one she once had. 

Her old beliefs and morals are chipped away by the training and killing, but they still stubbornly cling to her like old rust. She can't help but reach out for the injured girls and hum them songs, and she cries at night over the men she kills. It's what makes her feel human. Those memories are who she is, the woman in them her foundation.  
Because of this she's seen as weak. Disposable. 

The matron sells her to HYDRA's laboratories as an experiment before she reaches graduation. It was a sudden announcement, and the matron only told her in advance so she would be bathed and ready by morning. She says a small goodbye to Natasha that night, her hands cuffed to the bed frame.  
"I'm leaving at sunrise," she whispers in Russian, the tongue she was forced to adopt.  
Natasha is always silent but Anastasia is used to their one-sided conversations. She smiles though it tugs strangely at the muscles in her cheeks from disuse.  
"I'll miss you, Natasha. I hope you find a family to call your own."  
The girl's green eyes watch her in the darkness but her lips don't move and she shows little expression. Just a slight tenseness to her prone figure.  
"We have no families, and at graduation we will be sterilized," Natasha says in a cold matter of a fact tone.  
"Family doesn't mean blood," Anastasia replies. "You can choose your family. And you will."  
With that she curls up under her thin blanket and forces herself to sleep, a skill she learned during her many years in the Red Room.

Anastasia is taken to a grey and white facility where she's strapped to a bed. The men in lab coats inject her with syringes of all colours. Most of the time she's unconscious, whether medically induced or from passing out due to the pain. Attempted copies of the super serum pump through her veins, some like lava and others sending shocks through her whole body. The pain sends her inwards, to the memories she calls home.  
She dies by chance during one injection, and after an hour suddenly revives. Anastasia had been more startled than the doctors. She thought she would be free, perhaps would return to the life in her memories or a cool dark place. It felt like moments to her—one moment she faded, and the next she was drawing breath once more. She did want to keep living but unfortunately the result is the life of a prized guinea pig.  
They test various ways of injuring and killing her, from gunshots to fire, but every time she heals in minutes and resurrects in less than an hour. With repetition and tweaking of serums and science she doesn't understand, the time shortens to seconds and minutes. Every time she dies it's relief and then shock, like being born again with every sense blazing. She hates it. Eventually she wishes she would simply die and be done with it, whenever she goes or doesn't afterwards. But since she will not stay dead there is only pain in store for her. 

To make up for the energy her regeneration requires she needs to consume many calories. The more she eats the faster she heals. If she hasn't eaten enough it will take longer for her to heal and resurrect and she will be more exhausted by it. For the first time in this life she is suddenly well fed, even if it's the same bland sludge it has always been. Her stomach sits full and beyond, but she never puts on weight because their experiments never stop. 

Deemed a success, she is further trained and made a frontline fighter since she's essentially indestructible as long as she's fed. The skills she thought she had left behind in the Red Room are beaten into her once more, and this time without concern for her physical status. If she is injured she can be "reset". Only her mind stands in their way. They attempt to wipe her mind and memories in a machine that makes her brain feel as though it were on fire. She hears it's what they use on the "Winter Soldier", a name that tickles the same spot in her head as Natasha. They drop that treatment for her when they realize every time she dies her memories return. Instead they focus on training her like any common dog. Bite, bark, sit, roll, play dead. Anastasia is not fond of the training, but she thinks it's preferable to losing her precious memories. 

Anastasia is sent on missions and through her apparent immortality earns her a nickname. "Koshcheyova". It means "daughter of Koshchey", an immortal wizard from Russian folklore. His name's etymology is often interpreted as "slave". It's silly but she's not unused to adopting new names since she left her first behind. 

A few times she works alongside the Winter Soldier, also known as Bucky Barnes. She remembers him through the haze of all the death and pain, and she reaches out to him. Anastasia called him by name and took his hands, one metal and one flesh, in hers. She told him that his friend was waiting for him. He showed some response, mostly confusion, but he was soon wiped again and frozen so she's not sure if it did anything at all. She likes to think he will remember when he escapes. 

Years pass. On her missions she watches normal people longingly, aching for the life in her memories. After so many years and so many bodies at her feet, she begins to believe we're simply a happy dream. A delusion she conjured for herself to comfort her. Her missions are gruelling and horrible. She can't forget the face of a little girl she killed, or the way her small chest stopped rising. It's hard to sleep these days. But she does. 

Anastasia is grown now and on an assassination mission. It's fairly routine, cleaning out a small operation. She doesn't know why they are being killed or if they deserve it, but she's learned that asking earns her broken limbs they won't let her heal. There are six targets, and all witnesses are to be eliminated. She's sent in with a team of four as support. Despite being an adult now she is no closer to Natasha's skill or the Winter Soldier's strength, but she is a tool that can be used without worry and that has its own value. Once they believe she's skilled enough for them to send in alone she will be frozen like the Winter Soldier. For that reason she makes sure she's never too efficient, never too strong. It makes training while hiding her skills more difficult but she can breathe real air for longer this way.  
The mission goes as they all do. Death and the blood of targets and a handful of innocents. After they complete the mission she exits to an alley. Her friendly face makes espionage suit her, and her careful obedience allows her to patrol alone. She doesn't look out of place in any city so long as she smiles. As she walks she detects no tails and no enemies. She decides she will buy some pastries at the bakery she passed on her way out and head back to the car. A wire winds around her throat and she's pulled to the ground. Her hand instinctively went between the wire and her neck and she twists out, throwing her assailant over her shoulder to the ground. Her opponent rolls gracefully and rises. Anastasia's eyes adjust to the light overhead and she faces Natasha.


End file.
